


Constellations and Good Intentions

by GhostGreenSigns



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Celestial Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Pining Castiel, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 09:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3524879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostGreenSigns/pseuds/GhostGreenSigns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas thinks had always thought that it was endearing that humans looked up at the sky and connected the dots of stars. He listened to them talk about their heroes in the heavens, Hercules, Orion. He learned about horoscopes, often finding them in the paper and reading them out-loud to Sam and Dean over breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations and Good Intentions

Cas thinks had always thought that it was endearing that humans looked up at the sky and connected the dots of stars. He listened to them talk about their heroes in the heavens, Hercules, Orion. He learned about horoscopes, often finding them in the paper and reading them out-loud to Sam and Dean over breakfast. 

“How can you believe in that crap?” Dean asked once.

“That’s not why I read them.”

He knew that Dean watches the stars at night while he drives. 

Cas loves that affirmations abound on the internet. People reassure each other that they are made of stardust, that the same matter has always existed. He thinks about reclaiming Dean from Hell, stitching his soul back together with stardust and love. He thinks he can see it sometimes when Dean is happy and his smile reaches his eyes, making the skin around them crinkle in a way Cas finds beautiful in much the same way tree rings are. He can see the stars sparkling in those eyes. 

He knows that constellations are a way to project your heroes into the sky, to have them watch over you. He can count the freckles that dust Dean’s nose and cheeks sometimes. He creates constellations out of Dean. 

He thinks that most of the things Dean does are endearing. The way he thrums his fingers along to music and hums under his breath when he cooks. He likes the way he reads with the pad of his thumb against his lips. He likes to watch him do things that Dean probably wouldn’t think defined him, like folding laundry or making his bed with neat military corners that Cas is sure John taught him. He likes that Dean always uses the same laundry detergent. 

“You will come to an unexpected revelation today and it will change everything and nothing at the same time.” Cas reads over waffles.  
Dean pours syrup on his breakfast in the shape of a star. “What does that even mean?” He asks, shaking his head. “A bunch of bull.”

“What’s mine today?” Sam asks, already shoveling in the steel cut oats and fruit he made to go with his meal.

“You will come to understand yourself more deeply, don’t worry about it too much.”

Sam smiles. “I like that one.”

“You would, hippie.” Dean grumbles. 

“What’s yours?” Sam asks.

“I don’t have a birthday.”

But Cas makes his own sometimes. “You will say everything you have wanted to say today. It will turn out ok.”

“Today is your day. You will have the courage to do what you dream about.”

“Make a move, staying still will never get you anywhere.”

Cas likes the way that Dean does the dishes. The way he lets himself zone out during the process, hands pruning and pink from the warm water. He stands next to him, probably too close, and dries.  
He can smell the laundry detergent and Dean starts to hum and Cas’s heart aches.

Later, he finds Dean leaning back on the hood of his car, staring at the stars. “Pull up a seat.” He says, eyes never leaving the sky.

Cas sits next to him, the hood still warm from the heat of the day. 

They sit there, staring into space, shoulders touching. 

Cas wonders where heaven is exactly. He finds Orion’s belt.

“My dad used to teach me and Sammy how to find the North Star.” Dean says. “Tactical, like the coordinates and stuff but I always thought it was more…I don’t know, meaningful? Like if we needed to find north then that would mean we were lost and it would help us find home.”

Cas thinks that Dean says “home” like people say their lovers names. 

“You’re made of constellations and good intentions.”

“Aren’t we all.” He says, grinning a bit while he watches the stars next to Castiel.


End file.
